Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Djibouti and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Cybotron,
The Divine Comedy,
Mars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
kango's stein massive,
Ultra Naté,
H. Thieme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barry Ungar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crash Course in Science,
The Pretty Things,
The Golliwogs,
Youth Brigade,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Association,
The Slackers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yazoo,
Suburban Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Albert Ayler,
Nirvana,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers,
The Zeros,
Eric Dolphy,
John Cale,
Magazine,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Archie Shepp,
Lalann,
Bluetip,
Nico,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
China Crisis,
The Index,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.